


I Am A Sad Fuck And I Don't Want To Talk About It (wilbur soot vs parenthood 2: the electric boogaloo)

by crimesiscrying



Series: I Gave A Child To One Minecraft Player, Here's What Happened (wilbur soot vs parenthood ft sleepy bois inc) [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Adoptive Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Depression, Not Beta Read, Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), References to Depression, Sad Wilbur Soot, Self-Esteem Issues, Short, Sleepy Bois Inc Angst, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Sleepy Bois Inc-centric, Toby Smith | Tubbo and Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, Wilbur Soot Angst, Wilbur Soot is Floris | Fundy's Parent, also ranboo where's my boy ranboo >:(, phil tries to be a good parent but his sons have issues, tommy and fundy are only mentioned, we die like wilbur in canon, wilbur soot going through it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:27:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29697801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimesiscrying/pseuds/crimesiscrying
Summary: It's been two months since Wilbur came home, and life is going better than ever. Fundy is finally sleeping regularly, Wilbur's nightmares have calmed down, he's getting along well with his brothers (even the new one), and his family is safe and happy. Even with Tommy there having a not-so-positive influence on his son's unfortunately growing vocabulary, things are going well. So then why, on gods' green earth, does Wilbur feel like burying himself in his bed and never coming back out?It makes no fucking sense, so Wilbur does what Wilbur does the best; ignores the problem and forgets about it.
Relationships: Floris | Fundy & Wilbur Soot, Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson
Series: I Gave A Child To One Minecraft Player, Here's What Happened (wilbur soot vs parenthood ft sleepy bois inc) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2182467
Comments: 8
Kudos: 61





	I Am A Sad Fuck And I Don't Want To Talk About It (wilbur soot vs parenthood 2: the electric boogaloo)

**Author's Note:**

> a short part 2 to the supposed.to-be-a-oneshot-turned-into-a-series i wrote earlier. check out the first one if you want to, also there will probably be more continuation to this one later on! :D

It had been almost exactly two months since Wilbur had decided to return to his childhood home, and he had yet to regret that decision. Okay, in all honesty, he had regretted it a few times during the weeks he had spent in the house, but those were fleeting thoughts caused mostly by Tommy’s insistence to make sure that Fundy would learn every single swear word there was to know. Wilbur had already swore that if the kid’s first full sentence contained the word ‘fuck’, he’d personally make sure Tommy would never talk to the toddler ever again. It was an empty threat and did nothing to quell Tommy’s attempts to get Fundy to call his grandfather an arsehole, but at least it made Wilbur feel a bit better about his parenting tactics. 

It was an early morning and the sun was barely gotten above the horizon, the clear blue skies promising a nice but cold day. Having woken up a few hours ago for no apparent reason for the fourth morning in a row, Wilbur was standing in the little kitchen of the cottage, sipping a coffee and listening to the loud, bubbling sound of his little brothers’ laughter coming from the living room. Gods knew how the teens had the energy to get out of bed and running at such an hour, but Wilbur wasn’t about to complain. After all, it just meant that in half an hour the house would be empty of rowdy teenagers, who would instead be out in the snowy plains terrorizing local wildlife. The poor rabbits wouldn’t know what hit them.

Wilbur hummed softly under his breath and squeezed the cup in his hands a little tighter. He was tired again, despite having slept through the night with no interruptions- Fundy had finally learned how to actually sleep for longer than a few hours at a time- and he really, really wasn’t looking forward to the coming day. If this had happened a few months earlier, Wilbur would’ve blamed the weight behind his eyes and the ache in his bones on insomnia caused by the unfortunate combination of a teething baby and a depressive episode. 

Now, though, Fundy was acting like an angel, albeit a very foul-mouthed one, and Wilbur didn’t have the excuse of being a lonely single dad going through a break up to justify feeling like shit. Now, he was surrounded by his loving and supportive family, he didn’t have to worry about money or food or warmth, he didn’t wake up every night in panic after a nightmare about losing his family. All in all, he had all of the outward qualities of a well-adjusted, mentally stable and generally happy person. Perhaps that was why it was all the more frustrating when Wilbur seemingly failed to get his brain to enjoy his life for what it was. Things were going better than they had in ages, and still, he wanted nothing more than crawl back to bed and never come out.

“Good morning,” Phil said through a yawn as he stepped into the kitchen, making a beeline for the still-hot coffee. At his son’s silence, however, the man glanced up at the teen, who was staring at the contents of his coffee cup like they held the secrets of the universe. “You alright, mate? You look a bit tired, did you not sleep well?”

Wilbur snapped out of his daze and quickly shook his head to try to clear the fog in his head. “I- No, I’m fine. Just a bit tired, is all. I slept well, though, so I don’t really know what that’s about.” He returned his gaze back to his coffee to avoid his father’s eyes, which were looking far more worried than the situation really required. 

“Look, I’ll be fine, okay? I’m sure it’s just.. an off day, or something. It’s fine. I’m fine. Quit worrying, you’ll get wrinkles.” Wilbur tried to give Phil an assuring smile, but the attempt landed somewhere in between a grimace and a deranged grin. Not too bad if you ask the man himself, but Phil sure as hell didn’t look convinced.

“Wil, mate, you do know that you can talk to me about anything, right? You don’t have to pretend you’re fine when you obviously aren’t,” he sighed, sitting down at the kitchen table and giving his son a Look. Wilbur still hadn’t figured out how Phil could give looks that started with a capital L. He usually put it down on the man being a father of five, but despite having fathered a whole child Wilbur still hadn’t acquired the skill. Whatever the ungodly sources of power Phil surely was drawing on to Look at him like that were, it was effective, and Wilbur quickly looked out to the living room to avoid losing the last of his crumbling resolution. He couldn’t afford to be more of a burden to his family, not after the fucking disappearance stunt he pulled for literal years. Especially not now, when things were finally going well for everyone in the family, and Wilbur really had no reason to complain. Instead, he just sighed and returned his gaze to Phil, whose eyes softened at the look on his son’s face.

“I’m fine, dad, really. It’s just a bad day. And if it wasn’t, I’d tell you. Of course I would. I’m not- I’m not trying to hide anything from you or some shit like that, okay? I left that behind ages ago.” The sharpness in his own voice surprised him. Lying to his father like that left a sick aftertaste in his mouth, especially when he saw the guilt flickering across Phil’s face before a gentle smile settled on his features. 

“Okay then, Wilbur, I trust you. I’m sorry if it felt like I didn’t, it’s just that… you’re still my kid, you know? And I still worry about you, even though I should remember that you’re growing up, becoming more independent, maturing. I should trust you with these things. Just know that I’m always here if you need to talk, okay?” 

The simple, sincere care in Phil’s voice was almost enough to make Wilbur admit to him, to tell him that his brain felt like a black hole that light couldn’t escape from, infinitely heavy and unbearably dark. Instead, he just swallowed the guilt with the last mouthful of his now-cold coffee and set the mug in the sink. “Okay. Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

And with that, Wilbur left the kitchen and made his way upstairs to check on his sleeping son.


End file.
